Swollen Property
by mynameislizzie
Summary: Naomi is a professional. Committed, serious and in a relationship with a guy. Emily and Katie are both gay...and they both fancy the girl who comes to their house to do her job. Can't things ever be complicated?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys**

**This is just a little idea I borrowed from my late, and much loved sister. You see she worked in the industry we're going to be exploring. Which just goes to show you shouldn't believe in stereotypes...because if there was ever an Estate Agent (Realtor to you state-side peeps) who did NOT conform to the popular image, it was Nancy. Drop dead gorgeous, blonde, and straight talking, she was as far from the shiny suited, gelled haired junior fuckwit image as its possible to get. But she never got to write this story. So I'm going to. It won't be as long as TLRH and it probably won't be as 'controversial' as SW, but it will have the elements we all know and love. Which are...Naomi, Emily and Katie, plus some minor characters, including Cook. Just maybe not in the original combinations we normally see. **

**Primarily from Naomi's POV. Just because I can.**

**Try it before you buy it, as it were. Like with OILZZ (which is still being written, just more slowly) its a 'Let me know if you like it' type story. That damned garden-nomes is rubbing off on me (oh be still my beating heart!) with her sly little deviations (Uh Oh... that too?...handcuffs, handcuffs) into alternative story lines. **

**OK. lets see if you _likee_ the _storee!_**

Naomi

"I'm gonna be fucking _late_ Cook...where did you put that fucking Disto?"

"Chill out babes...its in the cupboard over the vendor files...where it always is"

"No it fucking _ISN'T_ James" I shout, before remembering that the Financial Consultant is upstairs with a young couple signing up for their first mortgage.

I reduce my volume by several dozen decibels and hiss at him as he sits there with that smug, innocent victim face he does so well.

"_Where_...James?" I bark again, this time leaning over him and then regretting it immediately. Being Cook, his mind has just gone from worrying about me losing my temper, straight into instant lust mode, because my blue business suit jacket has just opened up enough to give him a good look at my bra encased tits.

"Err...give me a minute...and I'll remember?" he says, totally unconvincingly "Your tits are a bit distracting babes?"

"I'm not a fucking babe Cook... Could you keep it in your pants for a millisecond and find the fucking Disto...I can hardly measure the place I'm going to with a poxy tape, can I?"

"They always used to hun" he smirked, not taking his eyes off my tits, even though I had removed them at least another foot from his gaze.

"Back in the dark ages of Estate Agency maybe James..." I say again, knowing he hates being called by his first name "But hello...21st Century and all that. Laser measuring devices have been out for fucking decades"

"Ahhh" he says suddenly, leaping up from his desk and bounding round to my side "I left it in..." and then pulled it out of the spare desk drawer, like a conjurer with a fucking rabbit. "Here!"

I grabbed it from his outstretched hand and stuffed it into my already bulging briefcase. Luckily I'd got one of the expensive leather Gladstone type, and it just fitted inside.

"Right" I breathed, tucking a stray hair behind my ear and looking briefly at my reflection in the office mirror. "I'm off to...what's their name again?"

"Err... its here somewhere", he said, looking under the pile of files on his desk. Finally, he fished out a yellow sheet of A4 and read from it triumphantly "Here you go...Mrs Jenna Fitch... ahh, 27 Coleridge Avenue. Sounds like a sale just before the repo guys get there. Her husband booked it... I don't think he is in residence at the moment...said something about bankruptcy and bailiffs...?"

"OK, OK..." I say impatiently "I can get the facts from her. I just couldn't be bothered to dig it out of my briefcase again. Tell me why again I bother having you around?"

He chuckled darkly..and I knew I was in for another of those 'Cookisms' he loves so much.

"Because I've got a huge swollen dick...and when you get home after a hard day fleecing the public, you need some Cookie therapy to make you relax?"

I stared at him...there really is a condition called arrested development, isn't there? Cook had remained a 14 year old boy for the last 9 years.

"First...your dick isn't that impressive Cook...covering it in blue and purple ink is not overly attractive...and apart from the...very brief times...its erect...it looks like a bald man with a roll neck on...deeply unappealing. And being your 'girlfriend' is becoming more of a chore than a pleasure...so remember that when you're dreaming up new ways to insult me. You ain't _that_ special honey?"

He grinned back at me, totally unfazed.

With that, I grabbed my case and coat and swept out of the glass door at the front of the office. As I buttoned up my coat against the chilly wind that had sprung up since I came in at 8 this morning, I looked up for a second at the sign over the shop front.

'**Campbell Cook Estate Agents**' it said in bright blue '**More for less**'

I was sort of proud of that. I had worked in Agency since I left college. My University education had been put on hold, after I thought I was pregnant, just after my A levels. Not Cook's I hasten to add. I ended up not being pregnant after all, but the scare had made me re-evaluate my options. I started off wanting to be a hot shot politico, but after the fucking Tories and Libs had joined in unholy matrimony, and we were subjected to the nightly horrors of Campbell, Osborne and Gove...I decided a career living cheek by jowl with those chinless braying monsters was out of the question. I thought I'd take a step up...and become an Estate Agent. Don't laugh...its an honourable profession...its just that its inhabited by the least self aware, most self indulgent people in the world...except for politicians. Oh, and if you get it right...you can earn a shed-load of money. If you work for yourself, that is. I did a couple of years with a national chain...kissing arse, getting my diplomas and a whole load of contacts, then set up with my mate Cook. I say he's my mate. More a fuck buddy really. We met in 6th form, where I thought he was the biggest dick in the school. and I don't mean the size of his appendage. He was a fucking nightmare. But he wore me down. After the student president elections, which he won, amazingly, I let him shag me in an empty classroom. My previous fucks had been so poor and unsatisfying, it was actually quite a buzz to find a guy who knew how to use his dick to satisfy anyone else but himself.

I never lived it down, of course. After years of trying to get into my knickers, once he had...he never let me forget it. I let him do me again one night after a party...and we sort of drifted into this fucked up, off and on relationship. We aren't a 'couple' in the true sense of the word...but he lives with me...we set up this business together when his mum left him £100,000 after taking an extra large dose of super strength coke and shuffling off this mortal. She left him and Paddy, his little brother her huge fucking house too, full of totally unsuitable erotic art work. But the first thing we did was to sell it and move into a smaller, less porn show sort of place. I put my own money into it, and its half mine.

He gets an occasional shag, when I'm feeling generous...or pissed, or both, and the rest of the time he's like an older brother. Well, an older brother who's a full time dickhead. It means I have a ready made excuse when someone wants to get into my pants...either at a work function or on the rare occasion we go clubbing, and he gets his dick damp now and then as he charmingly puts it. It works, don't knock it...

But lately, I've started to feel we're just drifting along. Works going fine. Since we set up on our own, we've more than covered the bills. I have a nice Golf Gti and Cook drives a E class Merc. The Financial Consultant we roped in to do our money business brings a couple of clients a week in, and we've been outdoing most of the corporates in our High Street comfortably. When I drive about, I see a whole lot of _Campbell Cook_ For Sale and Sold boards and it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside to know we've got a good reputation for being reliable and professional.

So...today I was off to what we call a pre repo in the business. The bank hadn't actually grabbed it back from them yet...but it was in the fucking post. With the current fuck up in finance going on, those nice banks who were again on a charm offensive about how warm and cuddly they are, were simultaneously repossessing a record number of houses. People who had taken out mortgages when they thought their jobs were safe, and their household bills were manageable, were now being evicted en mass. Nice...

So this one sounded typical. Good sized 4 bed detached...nice road, big garden. Husband had owned a gym apparently. Wife ran a small wedding planner outfit. Three kids...twin girls, about 19...and a younger boy. Just your average English family, about to be hoofed out into Tory wonderland.

But it wasn't my job to be judgemental. I had to get it on the market before the banks took it off them. Hopefully sell it for a good price, pay off the vampires,, and then guide them through the whole downsizing process. Just another day in paradise then.

I pulled up outside and read through my notes once more before getting out. Always best to be over prepared. I locked the Golf then had a sly look up and down the street. No other Agents boards...good. That usually meant when people moved here, they stayed put for a while. That made any sale easier, because it indicated the area was popular. I added another £5,000 to my previous guess. You can check as many websites and property price guides as you like, but kerb appeal is kerb appeal. The house looked neat, well looked after and nicely presented. I made a small face at the cat flap in the front door. It was an expensive UPVC door, and the pet factor wasn't always a plus. If the prospective buyers had any allergies...

Anyway, apart from the cat flap, nothing else stood out as a negative. Should be a nice easy sale. A month on the market, half a dozen viewers, two offers and bingo... sale at just below asking price. We bank the odd £4000 and they go on their way to the no doubt less than ideal 3 bed semi in a slightly less salubrious part of Bristol.

I knocked on the door and heard raised voices from inside. I steeled myself for whatever was the other side. Occasionally, in divorce or forced sale circumstances, I had to be a mediator as well as an agent. Husband and wife, snarling at each other...trying to score points even as the potential buyers were ushered through the front door. In those cases, I normally did the viewings myself, with the clients safely shipped off to Ikea or something. Domestic battles don't make for happy buyers.

But the sound of arguing was coming from upstairs, not down. I could see through the frosted glass a female figure coming to answer my knock, but the raised voices were younger...probably the twins, I guessed.

Again, I had dealt with a lot of embarrassing situations in this job, even in the short time I had been doing it. Several times I had interrupted some nookie going on. Usually when we had the keys and the owners had forgotten we were coming. It was awkward...but you get used to being selective about where you look. But arguing twins wasn't something I had come up against before. Oh well, I thought, another experience to get through. I was going to have to measure and take a description of every room, so I'd just have to brace myself.

"Good morning Mrs Fitch" I said brightly as the well made up, dark haired woman answered the door.

"Good morning...?" she said uncertainly

"Err..Naomi...Naomi Campbell...from Campbell Cook?"

"Yes of course" she said, "silly me, I've mislaid your business card. Please come in"

Her tone was polite but brittle and I was guessing a lot of bottled up emotions were bubbling away under the surface. She looked as wound up as a spring, and as we passed the staircase on the way to the lounge, she broke

"Will you two **SHUT UP**!" she yelled, which made the sleeping cat on the bottom step leap up like he'd been plugged into the National Grid and make a bolt for that ugly cat flap. It clattered closed as his ginger tail exited.

The ensuing silence from upstairs was emphasised by the echo of her shout ringing around the house. I blinked once, but otherwise covered my shock quite nicely, I thought.

"Sorry" she smiled "My girls...Emily and Katie...twins, you know"

Well I did and I didn't if you understand. Only child me.

"Shall we go through" she smiled again, and I quickly realised that this was her default expression, polite but rigid. Like a mannequin.

Once we were sitting down, I began my spiel. I got out the sales information and the comparable properties on the market that I had prepared. It was surprisingly easy. She needed to sell, I wanted to sell it for her, and I found out I was the only agent they were seeing. A slam dunk really.

I stood up after we had agreed to proceed, and I asked if it was OK for me to measure up and take a proper description. Photographs and floor plans were for later. The clients usually went into sale fatigue after an hour, so I always kept the first appointment short. Once we'd got the agreement signed, it was ours anyway, so I could afford to soft pedal a bit.

I measured the lounge, dining room, kitchen, study and garage, while she sat in the conservatory, gazing out over her garden. Its often the most difficult time for an owner, watching their house be assessed by a stranger. I suppose it makes it all too real. Having to move, but I'm like the State Executioner...quiet, businesslike and respectful. Except his clients fall through an actual trapdoor, not a financial one.

After that, I asked if it was OK for me to measure upstairs. It was just a formality, but it was her house, and I always ask first. She nodded without turning round, and I'm guessing there may have been tears.

I did the main bedroom, en suite and family bathrooms first. Then I moved on to the two smaller bedrooms at the back. Both doors were closed, so I chose one at random and knocked.

"Fuck off" isn't my normal greeting, but I guessed that whoever was inside thought it was the other twin after round two, so I tried again. Silence.

Then the door opened with a bang...and I looked into two of the biggest, brownest...and certainly angriest eyes I had seen for a while.

"What part of f...Oh" was the surprised response from the occupant to my amused smirk. "Who the fuck are you?"

Well, I'd had better welcomes, but I kept the smile on my face determinedly.

"Hello...I'm Naomi...and I've been asked by your mother to have a look round, before we put the house on the market?"

She regarded me with a mixture of contempt and...something else I wasn't sure about yet.

"Oh..." she said..."_Nice_...I suppose you'd better come in then"

She stood to one side and let me squeeze past her. She was wearing a tiny cut off white singlet...obviously without a bra, judging by the bumps on the front, and the equally tiny pair of cotton girl shorts. Now, I've been propositioned many many times by leery home-owners ...usually male, in my job, and I've learned to sashay with the best of them. My artistic body swerve is almost balletic in its grace. But she left me very little room for manoeuvre, and apart from lifting her bodily away from the doorway, I had no choice but to 'bump bits' with her as I did. Very attractive bits, did I mention...but then I also probably didn't mention that despite Cook's continuous attempts to fully convert me...I've had a few.. and I mean very few experiments with the female of the species. Nothing heavy...nothing committed. But 6th form college is all about experiments, yes? Its just that not all of them are in the Chemistry lab.

But I never considered going gay completely. It had just never come up. I had the occasional (OK 3) hook ups with willing girls and enjoyed the hell out of it. But it all seemed a bit pointless really. I was usually between boyfriends, and so were they. A bottle or three of vino, a sad DVD and a comfy sofa...and bingo...instant girl fun. Wet fingers, breathless moans and embarrassed finding of bra's afterwards. Then it was usually back to the student union bar and getting dry humped by beery pre grads next night.

But this girl knew what she was doing, and it was frankly unsettling. Like Cook, her eyes had made a bee line for my suit neck line and were mentally stroking my tits as she licked her lips. The fact that her tits were momentarily pressed against my own just made it harder to concentrate on my next sentence.

"Err...OK..." I said, a trifle breathlessly...that was...interesting...now if I could?"

"Sure" she said, still following my arse with her eyes. Jesus, she wasn't exactly back pedalling on the eye fucking was she?

"My name's Katie...Katie Fitch..." she breathed...like she was James Bond or something "and you are _definitely_ the fittest estate agent I have ever met"

She looked up into my eyes and almost purred the next line.

"So...Naomi...what do you do for fun when you're not wearing that sexy suit?"

I actually laughed...I mean, I've heard some pick up lines in my time, but she was shameless.

"Thanks for the compliment" I said, cursing the fact that I could feel a blush burning my cheeks already. Jesus, _I _was supposed to be the professional here. "and although I'm flattered...I'm supposed to be working...and anyway...I'm not..."

"Gay?" she finished for me "Are you sure about that?...Because my fucking gaydar is alerting all Fire stations within a 20 mile radius...tell me that I'm mistaken and I'll give up and marry Justin Beiber"

She chuckled for emphasis

I was actually stuck for words...me Naomi Campbell...Double First in Smartarse with Honours, speechless.

"Uh..." I stuttered..."I mean no...I'm not..."

"Though not" she smirked and stepped closer, raising her hand to the top of my jacket. I fucking jumped, thinking she was about to start to undress me in the middle of the day, but she grinned a little lopsided grin at my shocked expression and reached into my jacket top pocket. I always kept two or three business cards in there, and she expertly took one out with her first and middle fingers, making sure to brush my boob as she retrieved it. My treacherous nipples sprang to life, and I thanked God I was wearing a jacket instead of my usual sheer white top.

"Oh" I said stupidly, as she peered at the card. My fucking personal mobile number was on there, I realised and now she had it.

"Oh well" she said, smirking again..."wouldn't want to keep you from work...thats serious business"

The tiny lisp as she said that just made it even more unsettling.

And with that she walked past me to the door and with one last cheeky look back over her shoulder, disappeared into the family bathroom.

I stood there for a moment, Disto in hand, and processed what had just happened. Fuck me, I'd never been propositioned quite so blatantly by a total stranger before, not even in clubs. My mind held the image of those frankly spectacular tits and curvy arse. Maybe Cook _would_ get lucky tonight after all...I needed to relieve some internal pressure...

After I measured up Katies room quickly, in case she came back for a second go at me, I knocked on the other door.

This time it opened immediately and I stood there like a fucking loon for the second time this morning.

Jesus H Christ on a bike, I thought. Its deja vu in spades.

"Hi" came the husky voice of the second occupant "I'm Emily" No shit Sherlock, I thought.

The same brown eyes as her sisters looked at me. Not aggressively, not openly challenging...but even more alluring. Her mouth twisted slightly at my stunned expression. She was even more fucking gorgeous than Katie. Suddenly the air seemed harder to breathe...

"Did you want to measure me up?" she said, dipping her eyelashes adorably.

"Oh sweet mother..." I thought "I'm totally and completely fucked..."

**And thats chapter one of 'Swollen Property' what d'ya think guys? Worth exploring? A vampy Katie and a totally gorgeous Ems...This time both gay...but for those Kaomi haters around...don't worry, Naoms will find it easy to choose between them...won't she?**

**LOL**

**Review you lovely buggers!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi there. This is the second chapter then. A warning for those hard core Naomily shippers for this one. Remember, Naomi is still kidding herself that she's straight...and then she isn't sure...and then again...maybe she isn't.**

**So, a bit of Caomi...followed by a bit of Kaomi...just to get everyone angry...but there is a point to it all, I promise!**

**Read on...if you dare lol.**

I got back to the office a whole lot more flustered than I left it. Meeting the force of nature called Katie Fitch was an experience I won't forget in a hurry, but meeting her twin sister was even more unsettling. No obvious come ones and Cook style perving from the quieter sister. She just sat on her bed and watched me as I measured and took notes. More notes than I actually needed, and far more than I'd recorded on my appraisal form in Katie's room. OK, the main reason for that was because I had serious doubts about my self control if Katie tried a full frontal assault, but with Emily, it was because I was fascinated by her room. And her of course...I admitted to myself when I was safely outside, sitting in my car, dictating my notes into the little Olympus voice recorder.

If Katie was all sex and suggestiveness, Emily was sweet, shy and totally beguiling. For me, that was a much more potent combination. She only spoke to me twice, both times in that surprisingly husky tone which sounded like she smoked 20 a day. Where Katie lisped prettily, even when she was making lewd suggestions in my ear, Emily seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing, and who I was. Her room had the usual lesbian poster array. Jennifer Lawrence, Natasha Khan and Natalie Portman...I smirked to myself as I noted wryly that she had the same taste in women as me...not that I really have a taste in women... being straight and all.

My best friend would have laughed out loud at that thought. She's always on at me to admit I like fanny...but I keep telling her...I prefer cock. Well, that's not absolutely true... Its just easier...OK? No complications with men, especially men like Cook. He asks no questions, I don't give him any answers. Wham, Bam, where's my Vans...

Anyway, after a brief but fun conversation with the prettier twin, I went back downstairs, sat with Mrs Fitch for another 10 minutes, signing the Agency Agreement and the PMA form and took her up front credit card payment for the advertising. I made an appointment for two days time to take photos and do a floor plan, then I left.

As I sat in the car...finding myself doodling the name _Emily_ on my notepad, before scribbling it out irritably, my phone rang. Unknown caller... it said.

"_R U sitting in yr car, wndring when I'm gonna call U, sexy?_"

Fuck... Katie Fitch. I looked up and saw an amused face looking down at me from her parents front bedroom window. I shook my head at her and indicated my notebook. Why the fuck I felt I needed to explain, I don't know. She was leaning forward, giving me a tempting view of those pretty tits, and I felt my stomach clench as I realised she was still wearing that tiny white cut off singlet. I hoped she couldn't see my tongue as I licked my lips nervously.

My phone buzzed again as I sat there, willing myself to start the car and drive off. This was fucking ridiculous.

"_U smelled amazing Naomi...I bet you taste even better_"

Oh fuck... I thought... That is entirely inappropriate... I swallowed hard and tried hard to think of anything but the message behind that message? _Taste_ me? Oh God... I've never...I mean no one has ever...to me...not even Cook...its too... _FUCK._

I saw her grin at my 'rabbit in the headlights' stare. Job done, I think, from her point of view. My knickers were damp, and she'd not even had to touch me. I shook my head at her as she winked at my obvious embarrassment. She shrugged and stood up, stretching her arms over her head. I caught a glimpse of creamy flesh as the singlet rode up even higher. My hand shook as I reached for the ignition. I know I shouldn't have...I know thats exactly what she wanted, but even as I released the handbrake and put the car in first, I looked up at the window again, one last time...

She was still looking down at me. As I lifted the clutch... she reached down to the hem of the top and pulled it over her head in one move. I caught a brief, tantalizing glimpse of a firm perky breast before she turned her back to me.

Of course...I stalled the fucking _car_.

You can't hear someone giggling through double glazing, but even as I restarted the engine and pulled away, I knew she would be...

When I got back to the office, I was still squirming. What the fuck was wrong with me? I don't do casual sex, certainly not with girls 3 years younger than me, but she had managed to make me uncomfortable and aroused at the same time. So I took things into my own hands as it were. No...I didn't go out the back and get myself off...I have _some_ self control you know. It was worse than that. I gave Cook an early birthday present.

"Have you got any appointments?" I growled...throwing my coat on the back of my chair.

"No...?" He said, looking up at me from behind a thick pile of sales chasing files "Why princess?"

"Because its your lucky day, Cook"

I turned round and locked the front door and flipped the 'closed for lunch' sign over. Then I switched the answering machine on and grabbed him by his thin purple tie.

"I need a quickie...and you're the nearest male"

His face nearly split open with the size of his grin.

"All fucking RIGHT" he roared..."THAT'S what I call a business perk...fuck the luncheon vouchers!"

When we got round the back of the partition, I unzipped him, gave him a couple of desultory strokes...which was all Cook ever needed to be ready...and bent forward over the photocopier. A brief fumble with my knickers, an exploratory finger to discover how ready I was, and then I was full of Cook...or cock, if you prefer. Never subtle, Cook nevertheless always gives satisfaction. A 5 minute frantic pounding, some bruised tits on the paper tray... and a torn off top button and I was screaming into the flesh of my forearm as I got off pretty satisfactorily. Thank God for condoms, and the fact that Cook was an expert at putting one on. At least there was no unsightly mess to clear up afterwards. I leaned against the mute grey machine, panting, as he pulled out of me and stood upright.

"Fuck me Naoms" he gasped..."not that I'm complaining...but what brought that on? Its been nearly two months since..."

"Yeah...alright Cook" I said, pulling down my skirt and re-buttoning the undamaged part of my blue silk suit "Fucking drop it OK? Let's just say sometimes a girl has needs...and you happened to be handy. Don't go buying any engagement rings on the strength of a quick fuck, OK"

When I turned round, he was looking at me with a very unCook like expression...like he was actually trying to figure out what had just happened, rather than just whooping coz he got his dick wet unexpectedly.

"Well..." he said slowly " Its not like you went somewhere and saw some hot stud who turned you on so much, you had to come back here and feel the love...so I'm guessing... and you can shoot me down here Princess if I'm totally off the chart...its a woman who's got your motor running...right?"

"Fuck off James" I said hotly, trying not to catch his eye "I'm not..."

"_Gay_?" he finished for me, looking sadly at his feet " I think we both know that's a crock of shit...when are you gonna tell yourself the truth about that, Blondie?"

I didn't have the heart or inclination to lie to him today.

"Look...its complicated... Can't it just be complicated Cook?"

"Its not complicated at all babes..." he said quietly "let's be honest...we share a bed occasionally...but we've never actually shagged in the daylight..face to face, like...you go back to your own bed straight after...and if something like just now happens, once in a fucking blue moon, its always like this... with you facing away from me...just putting up with a dick...when we both know you'd rather be knuckle deep in muff...if you only had the guts to admit to yourself what all your friends already know?"

"Stop it..." I said weakly..."I'm not...I mean I don't want..."

"Have it your way Blondie" he said, turning away from me with a strange expression on his face "But sooner or later you're gonna have to face the facts... I already have"

I tidied myself up and reapplied some makeup to repair the damage. When I came back out into the main office, he was at his desk, head down and ignoring me.

I sat back at my desk and looked out of the front window at the world going by. He was right of course...but since when did I ever do things the easy way?

When my phone buzzed busily on my desk, I snatched it up, happy to be occupied with something other than my thoughts.

Picture message, my Blackberry said.

I opened the MMS fearfully...no one ever sent me a picture message on my work phone?

I should have known. I recognized the bedroom. The leopard print alone gave it away. Katie Fucking Fitch...lying on her bed, with the tiniest, sheerest black lace underwear on, smiling at the self held camera. The message underneath read

"_Go on...you know you want to. Raven Club. Friday. 10pm. Dress to impress"_

Fuck me with an inflatable crocodile...I'm in trouble here.

XXX

It took three changes of clothes, a compete makeover from my friend Zoe, half a bottle of sloe gin and several texts from my best friend Effy Stonem before I gave in and went out on Friday. No way was I going on my own, but with Zoe dressed to kill beside me, I managed to talk myself into it. Cook helped, although his methods were less orthodox. He just moved his stuff into the spare room. He was right of course. We had been sleepwalking through a long term decline. We started off as fuck buddies, but mainly because I needed him. He had never needed me to find a willing victim. So I hung out with him at parties and clubs, pretending to be his partner. If he got lucky, I normally went home. If someone fancied me...and it was usually a guy...I would trot out the old "_Sorry, but I have a boyfriend_" line. Then if the guy was particularly persistent, Cook would raise his hackles and I was home safe. On the very rare occasion when a girl showed any interest, I would still hide behind his hetero presence. It was a sham and we both knew it.

Mondays frantic shag against the Minolta woke us both up. Not for the obvious reasons. He was never one to turn down a shag, however one sided it was, and I know he's always fancied me a bit more than he let on. But I was getting a bit obvious. Even Cook wasn't going to be happy being used as a human dildo forever...

So he moved his stuff out of my room and we reverted to being what we should have been in the first place, friends..without benefits.

So here I was, dressed to kill.. If that's even possible for me. I had my best red cocktail dress on. Silk and with slashed side which revealed most of my right leg. I'd never had the courage to wear it before. Effy had picked it out from me when we went up to London before Christmas. It cost a fucking fortune too...the best part of £400. Looking at myself in the hall mirror after we had staggered out of my bedroom with ridiculously high matching heels, I had to admit I looked hot. It wasn't a look I had ever gone for before. My hair was brushed out straight, and hung just over my shoulders in soft blonde waves and Zoe had gone to town on the eye make up. She'd used a lot of eye shadow and dark outlines to emphasis my blue eyes. And the amount of boob I was currently showing was way in excess of anything I'd dared show before. I had a moments sheer panic...did I look like a whore?

But she laughed at my nervousness and bundled me out of the door and into the waiting taxi.

The Raven was one of those clubs that appeared and disappeared on Bristol's waterfront regularly. Small, dark and selective about who gets in. When the taxi dumped us at the end of the road, so that we could negotiate the cobbles...I stared at Zoe as if to say "Have you seen the size of that poxy queue?" But she winked at me and walked straight to the front of it.

"VIP list?" She said, before pulling out her phone and pretending to take a call.

Five minutes later, we're inside, under the completely fictitious names of Emma and Sasha...apparently two Z list celebs from some horrible reality TV show Zoe knew about. She'd spotted their names on the list as the door gorilla squinted at it. A couple of wide and fake smiles, some uncomfortable (for me) tit flashing and we were in. I'm amazed we got away with it... for a start we aren't orange, with neon teeth...but what the hell.

Three glasses of pink champagne and a small white MDMA tab later, and I was starting to get into the evening. The music was techno dub-step shit of course, and the grinding, swirling mass of sweaty bodies on the main floor very unappealing, even with the E buzz, but being 'celebs' however fake, meant we were the right side of the thick purple rope barrier and able to drink and talk in something under 100 decibel range.

After two more cocktails...courtesy of two hopeful and certain to be disappointed footballer types, I felt a tap on my shoulder. A familiar husky voice said "Hi" in my ear.

I turned round and saw the lovely Emily Fitch staring at me. God, she looked even more gorgeous dressed up. She had her long brown hair up and was wearing a short black cocktail dress with one shoulder bare. For a short girl, she certainly had the legs to pull it off. I swallowed hard as my drugged and slightly pissed brain tried to do two things at once. Stop myself actually dribbling, and string together a coherent sentence.

"Hi Emily" i said...trying for an easy one to start with " You look... wonderful..."

I heard a snort from behind me, and tried to keep the scowl off my face that Zoe was trying to add to it. She leaned into my back and whispered into my ear

"Careful Naoms...your _gay_ is showing a bit hun. I'll get us all a drink, shall I?"

I nodded without turning round, still staring at the gorgeous girl in front of me.

"Err...thanks" Emily said, dropping her eyes " you look...stunning too. Did you get invited tonight then?"

"Sort of..." I said, trying to skim over the fact that her sister had been the one to ask me...complete with semi naked picture message invite. "Actually, my mate Zoe" I nodded in the direction of my disappearing friend "kind of blagged us in, pretending to be fucking TOWIE stars, or something"

Emily giggled prettily and fluttered those eyelashes again. Jesus, i thought...she definitely needs a permit for them...isn't carrying a deadly weapon an offense?

There was an awkward silence for a second or two, after we got past the inane introductions, even if mine had been a bit more...unguarded, than I'm used to.

"So...do you come here often?..."I started and then saw her eyebrow raise quizzically at the sheer fucking lameness of that line " Oh...fucking hell!" I spluttered..."Did I actually just _SAY_ that?"

"Yep..." she grinned cheekily "Actually, I think that's the first time I've heard that outside a 1950's black and white film"

"Fuck off," I said amiably..."Would you prefer '_your dress would look good on my bedroom floor'?"_

Her eyes suddenly widened, and I blushed furiously.

"Actually...I think I'm going to stop talking for the rest of the evening" I muttered "Can't stop spouting shit, apparently"

Her face softened and i spent another light year or two deciding I could happily stand here forever, if it meant she was in front of me. Part of my brain was screaming at me to get a grip and resume the queen bitch persona I had spent years constructing at school. Why was I suddenly so tongue tied and socially awkward around this girl? No prizes for guessing...but it was a while before I would admit _that_ fact yet...

"Well..." Emily said, looking over my shoulder to where a crowd of people were gathering, just outside the VIP area " Katie's obviously here...better polish up my quiet twin act then..."

"Thats a pity" I said, before I lost my nerve " Later?"

"Maybe..." She said in a quiet voice "although my sister apparently has plans for that 'fit blonde estate agent who needs a good seeing to'"

"Oh" I said " I see"

"Katie has a way of getting what she wants" Emily made a little face at my answer "and at the moment...thats you"

"And what about what Emily wants?" I asked seriously " Don't you ever reach out and grab?"

"Its complicated" she murmured "I'm not sure...like she is..."

I didn't know how to answer that. Did she mean she wasn't sure about me...or being gay...or just standing up to her sister?

"Well...have a good night Naomi" she smiled sadly..."maybe I'll see you later?"

And then she was gone.

Ten seconds later, Zoe arrived back with three full champagne flutes.

"Fucking hell Naoms" she said disapprovingly "You only had to hang on to her for five minutes...what did you say to frighten her off?"

"Nothing" I said dejectedly " Shes off to play nice twin with her sister"

"Tell me you got her number at least?" Zoe grinned, offering me one glass and quickly necking the spare in one go before dumping the empty glass on a shelf.

"No" I admitted.

"Jesus girl...by the time you actually make a move, some lecherous hot dyke is gonna pull her. What's _wrong_ with you?...You fancy her..she fancies you, if the look she gave you just now is to be believed...so you just need to grow a pair and fucking ask her out!"

"Maybe I don't want to..." I started " Maybe I'm not ready to go on an actual date with a girl?"

"Naomi, babes... You've been ready since fucking puberty. You just haven't had the guts to do any more about it than indulge in a few sticky fumbles on the couch. I'm your friend, but sometimes I wonder if I know you at all. You're _gay_, Naomi...get over it!"

And do you know, in that sweaty club..with dozens of pissed people milling around, and the bray of the terminally inbred ringing in my ears...I actually began to think she might be right. Now I've got a first class brain, or so my mother, step father and college head told me endlessly when I announced I was leaving education and going into property sales...but when it comes to self awareness, I'm in the remedial stream. I spent adolescence pretending I was straight and suffered a score of unsuccessful and largely unconsummated relationships before finally hooking up with Cook, who was either too dim or too single minded about getting me into the sack to care. And look where that had got me? A business partner who i shagged occasionally, usually without the required end result... Brilliant Naomi.

And now I was in trouble. But not just trouble of course...it wouldn't be me if it wasn't _double_ trouble. I fancied one twin...who was apparently as backward as me about admitting her sexuality..and her sister fancied me. At least, she obviously wanted to get into my knickers. But what did _I_ want to do? My courage failed me whenever I spoke to Emily...and my libido overwhelmed me whenever I spoke to Katie. Fuck...I needed another drink.

Three more champagne cocktails and it all seemed a bit more unimportant. Zoe was currently being pursued by at least 3 guys, who had her surrounded and were competing to see who could monopolize her time most. Another tab of E had boosted my already euphoric state, and I found myself swaying to the music like a sad old uncle at at wedding. Where was my knight in shining armour tonight, I thought. I hadn't even seen Emily for an hour, and despite the fact that I was here at Katies invitation, I'd not even seen her at all tonight. Eventually the champagne worked its way through my system, and I started hunting for the VIP loo.

A friendly waiter pointed it out, and I was grateful for Zoe's blagging for at least the fifth time tonight. No queue and a virtually empty cloakroom. Six cubicles and, at the end, a disabled toilet with its own sink. I slid inside and put my little clutch bag onto the cistern before doing my duty and then using the bidet. After washing my hands and touching up my eye liner, I gave myself a bit of a silent talking to in the mirror. Get out there Naomi, I scolded myself, and took a deep breath before sliding the bolt open.

"_Miss me_?"

Oh fuck...Katie Fitch. In all her considerable glory. She was wearing a tight white satin dress with narrow shoulder straps and enough cleavage on show to prompt the purchase of crampons by any budding breast mountaineer. My eyes eventually stopped belonging to a hormonal 14 year old and traveled upwards to meet a very amused pair of brown eyes.

"Don't answer that" she smirked and walked me backwards into the cubicle.

"Katie...I..." I said stupidly..."I mean...I don't..."

"What Naomi...?" She smiled wolfishly " You don't like fanny...you don't know how to thank me...you don't know what to do? Let me answer all three questions for you hun..."

Her breath was on my ear by then. She had pressed up against me until i was leaning on the back wall, between the sink and the bidet. Not the most romantic place i had ever been propositioned...but probably not the least either...remembering my student days.

"First...you _do_ like fanny...everything about you screams it. Your face is flushed" and she brushed my cheek with her cool fingers. "Your nipples are hard" and this time her confident palm cupped my tit in her hand and squeezed firmly. " And I bet you're so _wet_..." Her hand started to slid up the shortest side of my skirt, stopping an inch from the place where she would find out the truth of that guess " When I touch you" and her fingers flexed, inching closer to my soaked thong "My fingers will slide into you...so...fucking.._easily_"

I couldn't catch my breath. Time had seemed to stand still. She hadn't even kissed me yet...maybe she wouldn't... I managed to pull back slightly, pressing myself hard against the cold tile wall.

"Katie.." I almost begged, the MDMA rushing through my brain, firing off random synapses and playing havoc with my libido. The chances of me resisting this determined seduction reduced by the second.

"Shhh..." She whispered "I hadn't finished...Second on your list is thanking me..? Don't worry honey...watching you come on my tongue will be thanks enough"

I don't even want to _try_ to explain what that did to my superheated mind.

"And third...this time round..." she licked her lips, running her eyes over my body "you won't need to know what to do..trust me...Next time...it'll all come naturally babe...every...touch...every lick...every thrust..."

Her mouth was back on my neck by the last word..and as her hands began to explore me, i felt myself giving in. It was all to much...her scent, her breathing...her body pressed against mine. I found myself rationalizing it, even as her warm lips closed on mine. As her tongue slipped inside my mouth, I heard myself moaning. It was just the drugs, right?

As her fingers slipped inside my thong, I groaned out loud...it was all so...overwhelming.

"_KATIE_!"

The shout made us both jump. Katie pulled her fingers out of my underwear and rolled her eyes back in her head theatrically.

"For FUCKS SAKE!". she yelled..."Bit _busy_ here Ems...you know?"

"Sorry Katie..." Emily answered...sounding not in the least sorry "Bit of an emergency...out here. Your _girlfriend_ is looking for you?"

At the word girlfriend Katie at least had the grace to look a tiny bit guilty. It was like a bucket of cold water for me. I pulled my dress back down, looking everywhere but at the girl who was about to expose me in every way you can be exposed.

"Be out in a sec?" Katie yelled over the partition. "Keep her occupied babe?"

"Do your own lying Katie" Emily said frostily and Katie hissed in annoyance.

"Thanks Emily..." she spat..."Thats _well_ sisterly" She flicked a glance at me as she checked herself out in the mirror "This is just deferred hun...you're fucking _mine_"

And with that, she opened the door, and let it bang back on the hinge. I waited until the outer door had closed before I left the cubicle.

Fuck...still standing by the last sink,her arms folded and with eyes like coals...Emily Fitch.

"Told you she usually gets her way" she said in a cold voice

Bollocks

**Review?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys. No, I haven't forgotten this fic! This week has been manic, and I've concentrated on updating Long White Cloud. Christmas shopping, family stuff and personal shit has taken up every waking minute. Honest!**

**Anyway...this chapter deals with the aftermath of Naomi's little soiree in the loo with Katie, and Emilys mixture of disgust and disappointment with our blonde beauty. Poor old Naoms is torn. She fancies the pants off Emily...its the eyes, you see (!) But she's straight, you know...oh, and Emilys twin sister wants to fuck her too...complicated, huh?**

**The first bits smutty as hell, but not how it first appears. **

**I don't own Skins, but I'd shag it in a pub toilet if it asked...OK...it wouldn't have to ask, I'd just raise a Stonem style eyebrow and follow it meekly to the loo...loosening clothing on the way.**

Naomi

"I can't hear you Naomi?"

I groaned as the tip of the bulbous strap on teased my sex.

"Please?" I said pathetically, looking up at the stunning girl poised over me. If I thought Katie was beautiful clothed, semi naked she was unbelievable. Forget a glimpse of her pert 34c's through a bedroom window. Seeing them hanging above my own tits was torture. Definitely bigger than her sisters, I thought, before any rational debate was driven from my feverish mind by another sly prod below.

"I'm waiting lover..." she smirked "You were the one who said you needed cock before I could have you...This cost £59 down at Anne Summers, and I'm gonna get my moneys worth out of it if it kills...you"

She added another roll of her hips, and I felt the plum sized head of the fake cock stretch me open. Another thrust, and I would be full of all too realistic black penis. I had no idea why she chose that style, but when I looked between our bodies and saw the obscene conjunction of artificial cock and my smooth, open cunt, I had a rough idea. It looked filthy, and the one thing I already knew about Katie was that she was terminally filthy. I was naked, spread on my back on her bed, with my legs over the bottom of the mattress, feet touching the floor. She was wearing a crimson basque, which was now pulled down past her impressive tits. Tits I had already squeezed and sucked, until the brown nipples were hard and glistening from my tongue.

She flexed again, as I daydreamed.

"Last chance, babes" she said in a deep growl. "This is how it goes...I fuck you...you come...then I get the chance to watch you demonstrate you've learned something from my masterful lessons. I should be charging for this sweetie. New borns usually have to practice with someone way less hot than me before I let their tongues inside me"

She grinned at her own joke and pushed all the way in, forcing an ecstatic groan from me as she filled me completely.

"Now" she breathed as she started to fuck me slowly "Tell me again how you're actually straight...and don't like muff even a little bit?"

"Please Katie...I need..." I whispered, "I need you to..."

"Fuck you?" Katie grinned "I thought thats what I was doing hun..."

"Oh God" I moaned as her hands gripped my thighs and pulled my legs up until they were gripping her waist, my heels resting on her perfect arse.

"No more talk Naoms" she hissed "Time for you to get properly fucked" She looked over her shoulder and indicated with her head sharply. Even though the deep thrusts inside me and the pressure of her body against my clit on the in stroke were driving me crazy already, I wrinkled my brow in puzzlement...what the fuck?

"Emily" she spat, still looking over her shoulder "If you don't get your lame, self denying arse over here...at the fucking business end of this..." She grunted as I raked her sides with my nails "You'll never know what it looks like to see an actual human being get screwed. As opposed to the lesbian porn you finger yourself off to when I'm out"

Even as Katie turned back and started to pump me harder, my brain was trying to process what she'd just said...Emily?

Just then, a figure appeared from behind Katie. A figure dressed in girl pajamas, the top open to show her pretty breasts. And her hand was inside the bottoms. I could see the movement of her fingers underneath. No prizes for guessing what she was doing.

"E...Emily?" I said dumbly... My words punctuated by gasps as Katie increased the pace, lowering her head to suck hard on my nipples.

She moved closer, her eyes fixed on the place where Katie was penetrating me so forcefully.

"Oh Naomi" she breathed, the pace of her own fingers increasing as she stood beside us "If you had only let it be me...I would have loved you..."

I stifled a sob...who said anything about love?

Katie sneered at her sister as she worked on me determinedly.

"Cut the crap, Ems" she said " If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even be here, waiting for your turn"

I wanted to tell her to stop. I wanted to tell Emily to turn away, not to humiliate me by watching me submit to her sister, but the relentless slow strokes inside me were a total distraction. Emily moved even closer, and moaned herself as she watched her sister driving into me.

"Jesus Katie" she gasped, hands still busy on her own body "she _really_ likes this, doesn't she?"

No shit, Sherlock, I thought as Katie increased her pace and reached down to tweak one of my nipples hard. I'm not a fucking statue...

"Time to get involved, baby sister" Katie growled, and dragged the pajama jacket off her sisters shoulders. I took back my admiration for Katie's tits. Emily's were even prettier. Conical, tipped with very excited nipples, my mouth watered at the sight of them bared.

"Play with her tits" Katie gruffly instructed her younger sister. Emily unbuttoned her bottoms and dropped them to the floor, kicking them away. Now I could see her glistening excitement as well as hear it. Her small hand cupped my breast, and I could feel her tremble as she caressed me. I arched up as Katie thrust in and out quicker. For a few seconds, the only sound was the slap of flesh on flesh and breathless moans.

"She's gonna come soon" Emily said, her eyes black with lust.."Can I...?"

"Yeah" Katie grunted, "fucking _do_ it already"

Emily slid her slim hand between Katie's flat stomach and mine, searching for, and quickly finding, my erect clit. I howled as she circled it rapidly. My hips came up to meet Katies increasingly uncoordinated thrusts and I felt the familiar tingle rush through my body.

"Oh shit" I groaned..."_Coming_..."

Emily shot a questioning look at Katie, which she returned with a nod and as I spasmed and thrashed, kissed her sister passionately with an open mouth. The sight of them moaning into each others mouths was way too much for my superheated brain. I felt like Cook had invaded my personal fantasy locker with his exotic twin dreams.

I didn't think you could improve on an orgasm mid way...but apparently you can. Watching them kiss and moan huskily, I actually screamed out loud.

A light was blinding me suddenly, even as I writhed and gasped. I looked up at the ceiling...which was suddenly all wrong. It wasn't pink anymore...and the window had suddenly moved to the other side of the room. Post orgasmic shocks were still making me thrash and tremble...but it was my own fingers which were stroking my tender clit. I was tangled in my duvet, sweating and breathing hard.

A fucking dream...not just that, but a wet one too. Jesus, fuck, bollocks, I swore colourfully to myself. What's wrong with you Naomi...I stopped having lurid sex dreams when I left college. Is this the future? Getting myself off to twincest dreams now?

XXX

It took a ten minute hot shower and some vigorous scrubbing before I felt normal again. Well, relatively normal. I ached between my legs, and the drive to work in my tight suit was uncomfortable too. Fucking traffic...fucking imagination, were my constant verbal complaints on the way in. What was I, 15? Wanking over twin sisters I'd only met twice. In fact, wanking at all...I'd pretty much given up pleasing myself lately. Too many opportunities for my treacherous brain to start with the inappropriate imagery. Cold showers had replaced wet fingers in the Cook/Campbell household.

So I got to work in a foul mood. Not helped by seeing in the diary the appointment for 1pm at the Fitch house. Shit...I thought...the photos and floor plan. I knew I wouldn't be able to bail. Cook had a 1.30 at another property, and we'd rescheduled that one already. The only saving grace was that no one should be home. Mama Fitch had given me house keys last time I was there. Theoretically it should be in and out (Oh...and you like a bit of _THAT_...don't you Naomi, my conscience nagged. Fuck off, I answered it)

Cook came over to my desk at 12, carrying a big mug of coffee.

"There you go, dinky tits" he grinned cheekily "Maybe that will put a smile back on your face...not getting any lately?"

"Fuck off loser" I snapped automatically. "We're not all governed by our gonads"

He just laughed a bit louder.

"Touched a nerve there, Blondie" he chuckled. "Time for me to order some extra batteries in, babe?"

"Look...twat..." I spluttered "First...I don't have dinky tits...second, I'm not a babe...and third, stop calling me fucking blondie...we're not in college any more"

"Too fucking right" he muttered under his breath. "Back then I could get away with calling you anything I liked...and you'd still swallow"

"**WHAT**?" I yelled. "I never did _that_..."

His chuckles and heaving shoulders told me I'd bitten the bait yet again. I could count the times his dick had been anywhere my mouth on the fingers of one finger...but he knew any comment about my mouth and semen would make me gag.

"Ha fucking ha Cook" I said,..trying to hold on to whatever dignity I still had. "And it will never happen now, will it hun...best you get down to the fucking Fishponds Tavern tonight. Your uncle wears false teeth, doesn't he? Maybe he'll take them out and give you a treat"

I was quite proud of that one, disgusting as it was. Judging by the fact that Cook blew a mouthful of hot coffee down his tie, it didn't appeal to him much either.

XXX

Half an hour later, I pulled up outside the Fitch home. No sign of a car in the drive, but just in case, I pulled 10 metres further along. I rang the bell (I take it her ex husband was the genius who decided on 'Eye of the Tiger' as the bell tone) No answer, so after unlocking the Chubb mortice, I slid the brass key in the Yale and stepped inside.

The hall was clean and very tidy. No unruly shoes or umbrellas here. The parquet floor was polished and immaculate. A place for everything, and everything in its place, my grandmothers mantra repeated in my head. Not that my mother inherited even a tiny piece of grannies iron discipline. What with Jesus freaks, free love merchants and general scroungers, my upbringing had been as unconventional as its possible to be. Finding stray itinerants in my bed when I got home was pretty par for the course. It was only when I came in from college to find a long haired reprobate wanking in my kickers (and no, I wasn't wearing them at the time) that my mother allowed me a lock on my door. I think she realised that one unplanned 16 year old pregnancy in the Campbell family tree was enough. At least I got some peace after that. I let him keep the knickers...

I stood in the lounge and opened my pilot case. Taking out the old favourite Nikon D8400 (called the Estate Agents favourite because of its wide angle lens) and my property file, I started to work. Floor plan first. Taking the 6 sided folder marked Fitch, I opened it at the first blank page after the property description. I started to sketch the room out roughly. It wasn't to scale, but with the wonders of computer software, my rough drawings would combine with the measurements I took last week to create a three colour two dimensional image of each floor. A few carefully lit photos...lounge, kitchen, utility room, garden and garage, and I was ready for the top floor.

I was always more careful upstairs. Too many occasions of interrupting...things, had made me cautious. I placed one of my business cards on the top of the bannister post, just where someone who came home unexpectedly would place their hand when coming upstairs. I also left my pilot case by the door. If I didn't hear someone coming in, at least they would know I was here.

After sketching and photographing the master bedroom, en-suite and family bathroom, I quickly did the box room. Obviously a boys room this, I thought. Football boots under the single bed and a tattered mens magazine sticking out from underneath the Bristol City FC quilt. I decided to just push it back with my shoe. Again, experience had taught me that adolescent boys sometimes leave magazines like that...sticky?

I knew I was putting the girls bedroom off till last, but I could still feel a twinge between my legs when I remembered this mornings dream. The pink ceiling...Katies determined face as she...well, you get the picture?

I did her room first. I only tidied a bit. Just removed a tiny thong from its place on the mirror, and avoided the Beckham poster in the corner as I framed my shot. David Beckham in artificially stuffed underpants is about as far from a turn on as I think its possible to get. Right, I thought, as I reviewed the image on the camera LCD...that'll do. Just Emily's room to go. A couple of garden shots to finish, and I could exit this place gracefully. I hoped.

No fucking chance, of course. I'd only got as far as sketching one wall and the window, when I heard the door open in the hall. Please let it be Jenna, I thought desperately...or James...I could stomach a pubescent boys perving. Just don't let it be one of the twins. My face, although suitably blank when dealing with angry clients, lets me down big time when it turns personal. My mothers admiration for my 'expressive' eyes is not shared by me. More than once, they have given me away, when I'm trying to play the poker card.

"Err...hello" I called out from the bedroom door. Please let it be Jenna...

I heard soft footsteps as bare feet came up the thick stair carpet.

"Oh..." The owner of those feet said, when she'd got to the top of the stairs "It's you...?"

"Hi Emily" I said, hoping to Christ my voice sounded less wobbly than it felt

She blinked a couple of times and regarded me with those fucking Bambi eyes. They should be illegal, I thought, or at least made class B controlled, like cannabis or amphetamine. I felt like I had killed a puppy and handed it back to its owner.

"Is Katie here?" she said in that husky voice which belonged to a 1920's movie vamp, not this demure and innocent looking girl.

"No..." Said, wondering why mine had suddenly dropped an octave too. "Are you expecting her?"

If I'd prayed for my visitor to be Jenna, the plea I sent heavenwards for Katie Fitch not to be on her way was immeasurably more fervent. I was having a really hard time not checking out her prettier sister...if they hit me in tandem, I would be toast. Enough of this mornings lurid romp still existed in my imagination to make my palms sweat and my tongue keep wetting my lips. A habit I stopped immediately, when I saw that Emily was finding it fascinating. I started to bite my bottom lip, but her eyes got even wider, and I stopped that too.

Too fucking late, of course. I could already see where this was heading. Fuck, was it even possible for me to remain fully clothed in the presence of a Fitch twin?

"Can you finish up in there?" she indicated the room behind me "With me in it...I need to change?"

"No...that's fine"I squeaked. Great, now she thinks I'm high on Helium...

"Can I get past? " she smiled shyly and I moved out of her way jerkily.

I followed her into the room and she turned to look at me with sad eyes.

"Its OK..."she said " I won't bite?..thats Katies thing"

I looked round the room nervously as she opened drawers and wardrobes, presumably searching for something suitable to wear. She started to talk as she laid out underwear and a short skirt on the bed. Fuck me, I thought, I'm in a room, alone, with Emily Fitch...and she's laying out underwear...Why didn't I just excuse myself and wait outside? (Because you want to get into those knickers Naomi...my inner voice jeered..preferably with her inside them) It might have been true, but I was having a hard time persuading myself it wasn't.

I laughed stupidly at her 'joke'...especially as I had no doubt at all that Katie did do biting..

"Thats fine Emily...I just have to take a couple more measurements and a photo or two.

She smirked cutely, and held up a tiny powder blue thong and bra she had picked up from the bed.

"I'm a 32b...you don't have to measure...but I'm OK with the photographs...how do you want me?"

Jesus, she's flirting like crazy with me, I thought. How do I get out of this?

She was watching my face, and I knew full well that she could probably read my emotions like an instruction book.

"Look Emily..." I started to bluster, but she closed the space between us as I drew breath, and suddenly she was there...right up against me.

"I'm not my sister, you know Naomi" she breathed, and I could smell mint on her sweet breath. "I'm not big on toilet seductions. But I do fancy you...the thing is...would you rather go for the sledgehammer approach...or do you prefer introductions first?"

God...her lips were full and red...I have never wanted to kiss another human being more in my life..

"I...I..." I stuttered. I knew what I wanted to say, but the words wouldn't form. She waited patiently until I took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"I think subtle is just right Emily" I said, liking how her name sounded in my mouth.

"My mums about ten minutes behind me...so can I just ask you for one thing? she breathed gently, and rested her hands on my hips. I felt like I had been plugged into the national grid.

"Anything" I murmured pathetically, hoping against hope she was going to ask for a kiss.

"Just give me a..." she started, but just for once I was determined to initiate something in this house. Just once...

I took her small face in my hands and pressed my lips to hers. The sigh that followed came from both of us. God Almighty, if what I'd been doing for the past ten years was called kissing, what the fuck was this? Her lips were as soft and yielding as they looked, and they parted as I pressed harder. She wasn't demanding and direct like Katie...this kiss I could have spent a year enjoying. I found that somehow we had wrapped our arms round each other. I still wanted her...wanted to take her clothes off and run my hands over every inch of her. But this was different. I felt like I was almost melting into her...

It only lasted a minute or so...but it was a kiss which was to change my life forever. When we finally broke off, we stared at each other like two castaways who had found each other after years of solitude.

"Wow..." I said, touching my lips as if they had been burned. She was doing the same thing.

Just then, the front door opened again and I heard Jenna Fitch stumble in.

"_Jesus_" she yelled "whose bloody case is this?"

Emily and I looked at each other for a long moment, before she turned and yelled out of the open door.

"Its Naomi...our Estate Agent, mum...she's just...inspecting my room. Down in a sec"

I smiled at Emilys expression.

"I don't think thats how I would describe it..." I grinned "Give me your number?"

Emily grabbed my phone when I held it out and punched in her number quickly, turning away slightly so I couldn't see.

I looked at it numbly after she left me to go downstairs... In the contact section it was listed as '_Your new girlfriend_'

She's kidding right? I thought...

**And thats it for now...review?**


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